Perplexed
by Min Daae
Summary: NYR 2009. Involves confused Daemon, slamming doors, and a very embarrassed Jaenelle.


Daemon Sadi was _not _having a good day.

Standing in front of Surreal's door and listening to the muffled noises she was making from behind it, he was beginning to seriously consider just breaking the damn thing down. "Surreal," he said, trying to put some coaxing in his voice, "Please come out and talk to me."

The muffled noise got a bit louder. "No. Go away."

"I'm not going to just go away. What's going on?"

"Go away, I'm not going to talk to you."

He clenched his fists and kept his voice deliberately calm. "Please open the door. I promise I'll be reasonable."

"Reasonable. _Reasonable!_" More muffled noises, like sobbing. Daemon heard the snarl in his throat and could feel his temper chill. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You wouldn't know reasonable if it came up and bit you in the ass."

"Surreal," he said, in more of a purr, "I can get through your door if I want to. But I don't particularly want to have to replace it. What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Did Lucivar-"

A quickly muffled noise burst through the wood. "No. Mother Night no. Lucivar didn't do anything."

"Then _what?_" He snarled.

"Nothing, Daemon, I told you, nothing happened, Mother _Night – _was – Jaenelle –"

Daemon felt himself squirm. If Jaenelle had done something to upset Surreal – more importantly, if Jaenelle was upset with Surreal – that would be…problematic, to say the least. He winced and said carefully, "What about Jaenelle?"

"Don't sound so worried, Daemon, I told you, it's _fine._"

"Just like it's fine with Falonar?" He snapped, and then regretted it when more muffled noises erupted from within Surreal's room. "—I'm sorry. Is Graysfang with you?"

"No, Graysfang is not with me. There are currently no males in my room-" She cut off, making more noises. Daemon let his long nails bite into his palms and gritted his teeth, quietly furious for a moment, and waited to reply. Whoever'd made his little Surreal cry was going to pay for it. As soon as he got her to tell him who it was.

"Surreal, please talk to me. What does Jaenelle have to do with this?"

"Jaenelle-" The cut off noise was so violent that for a moment Daemon feared for the room and nearly shielded, but she still wasn't angry, and didn't offer anything more. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Surreal, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong!"

"Daemon, Hell's fire, I told you, _nothing's wrong._"

"And you expect me to believe that?" He couldn't keep the growl out of his voice. "Surreal, tell me who upset you."

She was silent for so long he wondered if she simply wasn't going to talk and he _would _have to break the door down. When she did speak, her voice was more incredulous than anything. "Upset me? _Upset _me?" He heard rapid footsteps and then she flung open the door and he stared into her face. It was streaked with tears, yes, but she was still shaking with violent, uncontrollable laughter. "Upset _me? _You think if someone upset me I'd be weeping over it like – Mother _Night, upset _me!"

Daemon stared at her, feeling a bit of befuddlement creeping into the anger. "…if you're not upset…"

"I'm laughing, you idiotic male, _laughing –_ you might try it sometime."

His flare of irritation was only matched by more bewilderment. "Phedre," he half growled, "What is going on? And what were you laughing about?"

Her face closed off at once. "Oh no you don't."

He frowned. "What were you laughing about?"

She stared at him, frowning, and then said quickly, "Ask Jaenelle," and slammed the door so quickly that he had to step back to keep from being hit in the nose. He stared at it, frowning, listening to Surreal's peals of unconcealed mirth, and suppressed his irritation.

"Witches," he sighed, but, scratching his face, he couldn't leave well enough alone. And went looking for Jaenelle.

P/p

p/p

Some time later, Daemon sat in the kitchen staring moodily at the countertop and sighed, heavily, going over the scene again in his head.

"_What joke did you tell Surreal?" He'd asked her, his beautiful, golden-haired lady. She looked puzzled. _

"_Joke?" _

"_She was laughing so hard I thought she was crying. She told me to ask you when I wanted to know what about." _

_Jaenelle turned bright red, hands going over her mouth. "She _didn't_!" Daemon stared at her, jarred by her obvious horror. "She did _not._"_

"_Jaenelle? What is it?" _

_She looked at him, looked down the hallway, wailed, "I can't tell you!" and fled into her room, where, for the second time in one day, he'd found a door closed in his face. _

And now he was here, feeling a little forlorn and a little hurt in spite of himself. It was probably nothing. And Jaenelle wouldn't make cruel jokes about him, he knew that. But nonetheless, between her and Surreal…

"Here," said a rich voice, setting a cup in front of him. "I take it you've had a rough day."

Daemon sighed. "Have you seen Jaenelle yet?"

"No. I tried to go up to her room but she refused to speak with me."

"At least it's not just me." He sighed, gloomily.

"What happened?"

"I thought Surreal was crying," Daemon began, defensively, "She was laughing, I asked what about, she told me to see Jaenelle, and then Jaenelle shut the door in my face and neither of them have come out since."

Saetan sighed. And sighed again. "Namesake," he said carefully, "You don't have to listen to me, but if you'd like to hear one thing I learned from living with the whole Coven for several years and having what you just described happen nearly day in and day out?"

"Mother Night," Daemon muttered, and looked up, raising his eyebrows. "What's your advice?"

"My advice," Saetan Daemon SaDiablo, High Lord of Hell and Priest of the Hourglass, said in a slightly pained voice, "Is when witches are laughing, we males try not to ask."


End file.
